Fears of Flying
by SongoftheWolf
Summary: Max said she'd push Dylan off of the roof. Did she actually do it? Or did she have a change of heart?
1. Chapter 1

**Okay! This is my submission for the Max-Dan-Wiz writing contest. I wrote it the day before the due date, so if it's bad, let me know! This is before I try to edit it down to 500 words, so far it's 600 something. Please review!**

Two and a half hours later, I had yet to get Dylan in the air. I had a change of heart and decided not to push him off the roof … yet. Instead, I had _tried_ to tell him how to fly, but it all came back to actually getting in the air.

Which he didn't really want to do.

"I need to know a little more before I fly again!" he protested. "I don't want to get hurt!"

"You-are-a-mutant-bird-freak-you-won't-get-hurt," I said for the billionth time. "The worst you are going to get is a few bruises! And if you want to be with us for any length of time, bruises are the least of your worries! Now, get up in the air, or I WILL shove you off!" Poor Dylan. He didn't know how serious I could be when I wanted to. So, still thinking I was joking, he refused.

"I just … don't want to get hurt," He sat down and stared across the treetops. So he was trying to pull my sympathy by moping! Not going to happen! "Sometimes I can remember the pain, not just of trying to fly myself, but pain from before. Like, from before I can remember," he said quietly. I sat down next to him, his excuse intriguing me. "They said I was cloned from a Dylan who died in a car crash. Sometimes I can't help but wonder if the other Dylan's memories are mine as well." I looked at his face, and sadness was etched there. "I can see things, when I sleep. Most of it's the same. A bright light, the world turning, and such an intense pain… and then nothing. I wake up. That's all I know of the other Dylan. I think it was his last moments," he finished in a whisper.

As heart wrenching as that was, I couldn't help but wonder, "What's that have to do with flying?"

He looked up quickly, obviously caught up in his own pity. Wimp. "I – I just don't want to get hurt," he said lamely. "Surely you are afraid of pain too?"

I laughed without humor. "A little pain is nothing. Learning how to fly and getting a few bruises? Nothing. Getting shot? Nothing. Having family taken away from you? Now that's pain. You're left breathless, scared. You don't know whether they are alive or dead. You just want to curl up and cry. You can't let that show though, can't let the remaining flock see their leader scared out of her mind. After that happens to you, come talk to me about pain," I finished coldly. Only afterwards did I notice Dylan's arm had snaked around my shoulder. A comforting gesture? Or something more?

"You know what?" I said, getting up quickly, shrugging off the offending arm. "I have a great way to teach you to fly!" Bewildered by my quick subject change, Dylan followed me to the edge of the roof. "Pick a tree," I said, "Focus on it,"

"Okay," he said warily, eyes searching for a tree. While he was distracted, I pushed him off.

With a horrible screech that wasn't entirely human, Dylan plummeted toward the forest floor. "Flap your wings you fool!" I shouted in his general direction. He must have heard me because he started pushing his wings down.

"I'm flying!" he shouted as he plummeted toward the treetops. A few seconds later, he realized flying means not falling in a general forward direction. He landed in a pine tree, his wings getting tangled in various other trees close by. He wasn't getting out without help. "Help me!" he shouted. I smiled to myself. Should I leave him there, help him out myself, or go and get Fang to help me? Decisions decisions...

**Thanks for reading! And I must apologize to all those who have read Ad Finem. I lost the story. It's gone. I need ideas, but I am trying to write another story **_**with a solid plot this time!**_** So, look for it this summer!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, this is it after I revised it. Not much changed, just reading the first one would do, but I have nothing better to do than to post this, so here it is!**

Two and a half hours later, I had yet to get Dylan in the air. I hadn't pushed him off the roof … yet. Instead, I had _tried_ to tell him how to fly, but now he needed to actually fly.

Which he didn't want to do.

"I need to know a little more before I try this!" he protested. "I don't want to get hurt!"

"You-are-a-mutant-bird-freak-you-won't-get-hurt," I said. Again. "The worst you're going to get is a few bruises! And that's not a big deal! Now, get up in the air, or I WILL shove you off!" Poor Dylan. He didn't know that I don't let wimps get their way. He refused. Again.

"I just … don't want to get hurt," He sat down and stared across the treetops. I rolled my eyes in frustration. "Sometimes I can remember pain from before. Like, from before I can remember," he said quietly. I sat down next to him, playing along with his pity party excuse. "They said I was cloned from a Dylan who died in a car crash. Sometimes I wonder if the other Dylan's memories are mine as well." I looked at his face. Sadness was etched there. "I see one thing that I know never happened to me. There's a bright light, the world turs, and I feel an intense pain… and then nothing. I think it was his last moments," he finished in a whisper.

So heart wrenching I forgot to cry. "What's that have to do with flying?"

He looked up quickly, obviously caught up in his own pity. Wimp. "I – I just don't want to get hurt," he said lamely. "You must be scared of pain too!"

I laughed without humor. "A little pain is nothing. A few bruises? Getting shot? Nothing. Having family taken away from you? Now that's pain. You're left breathless, scared. You just want to curl up and cry. You can't let that show, can't let everyone see their leader scared out of her mind. Only after you know what that's like you can talk about pain," I finished coldly. His hand, which had mysteriously landed on my shoulder, rubbed my back.

"You know what?" I said, getting up quickly, shrugging off the offending arm. "I know how to teach you to fly!" Bewildered by my quick subject change, Dylan followed me to the edge of the roof. "Pick a tree," I said, "Focus on it,"

"Okay," he said warily, eyes searching for a tree. I pushed him off.

With a horrible screech, Dylan plummeted toward the ground. "Flap your wings fool!" I shouted. He must have heard me because he started pushing his wings down.

"I'm flying!" he shouted as he fell. He landed in a pine tree, wings getting tangled in other trees close by. He wasn't getting out without help. "Help me!" he shouted. I smiled to myself. Should I leave him there, help him out myself, or go and get Fang to help me? Decisions decisions…


End file.
